you don't look a day over fast cars and freedom
by Cadaverlee
Summary: Keith loves the speed. Shiro loves Keith's love of speed. Repost from AO3 and Tumblr


I have this strange habit of hearing like _one_ line in a song and then just writing a thing based on that _one_ line. Idk

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Keith loves the speed. When a friend in high school had brought their dad's Ferrari to school to show off, he jumped at the chance to take it for a spin, gunning the engine to well over the speed limit of 45 and nearly hitting 110 before the empty back road started becoming cluttered. Needless to say, his friend didn't very much trust him to drive the Ferrari again, saying that their dad would kill them because he drove like a maniac and had nearly gotten them killed. (Keith was actually a great driver and took the turns smoother than silk, thank you very much.)

Having heard the stories of the new speed demon bad boy going around the Garrison, Shiro was unsurprised that Keith owned a street bike - courtesy of his latest foster family - and was equally unsurprised at how fast he would push the simulations. It was the skill that Keith did it with that did impress him, and it's mainly what made him interject into the various stern talking-to's with small comments like, "With all due respect, his turn did allow him to get into a previously inaccessible space which better completed the mission, ma'am. We haven't seen those kind of times in a few years…" And the likes.

"And you're… Just hitting 18?"

"In a few months, yeah," Keith responds, his back against the wall and holding Shiro tightly against his front by the fabric of his blue uniform shirt. Shiro's lips tug into a frown and he's holding only Keith's forearms with a light grip. "Keith."

"I'm not asking for sex. Just… kiss me?" Keith's eyes reflect purple in the light of the setting sun. They're wide as he looks up at Shiro pleadingly. Shiro mumbles 'alright' under his breath and leans down to catch Keith's lips with his own, nearly smiling because he can practically taste the inexperience. He's giving himself an excuse, giving _Keith_ an excuse, and they both know it when he pulls back a fraction of an inch and whispers, "No, do it like this…"

And Shiro again realizes that Keith loves speed when he's stretching and can feel the light sting of the scratches down his back. He always brushes it off as stiff muscles from just waking and eventually people stop asking him about it and just assume that it's just as he says it is. And they're both happy. Sometimes anxious, but happy.

"Come with me," Keith whispers to Shiro one night, taking him by the hand and leading him quietly through the sleeping halls of the Garrison. They enter a massive garage where the ground vehicles are kept and Keith is deftly picking his way through the mostly dark space to a row of vehicles that look almost like dirt bikes. "Keith. No."

But Keith just looks at Shiro from where he's mounted on the bike and says, "I won't get you in trouble, I promise. If anyone asks, you came after me when you saw me sneaking out." Shiro pauses, turning the options and consequences over in his mind. He eventually finds himself walking with Keith through the door into the night, and then he's mounting the bike behind Keith and locking his arms around Keith's slender ribcage. It's nice to feel the wind through his hair, he thinks, and lets his mind wander while Keith navigates through the barren desert with an ease like he's breathing. There's no tension in Keith's posture and behind them there's a trail of dust that gradually fades into the night air. Shiro relaxes, planting a soft kiss on the back of Keith's neck, then laying his head against the same spot to watch the world whip by.

Shiro thinks about that night a lot while he and the Holts are traveling to Kerberos. The warmth of their bodies moving together in the still night air and then the coolness of the wind on the ride back. He can still feel Keith's body leaning to hug the turns and wonders if he'll be able to feel Keith's body again – but in a more personal sense. And then Shiro laughs to himself, because he knows Keith will be waiting for him when he returns home.

"What are you laughing about?" Matt asks Shiro, pulling on his suit and gear. Shiro only shakes his head and locks his helmet into place, a smile on his lips as they finish preparing to collect samples on the icy moon.

Shiro almost trips, because he's watching the Red Lion set down after a _risky_ maneuver that had saved all of their asses and then Keith is stepping out and pulling off his helmet, his steps quick as he walks – nearly runs – to Shiro with a look that could kill a man. It makes Lance nearly dive out of the way and Shiro barely registers the _thunk_ of Keith's helmet hitting the ground because he's otherwise preoccupied by Keith's lips and his hands in his hair. When they part, he can barely see the purple of Keith's eyes around his blown pupils, Shiro instantly knowing that it's the adrenaline. The maneuver was fast and hard and dangerous – perfect for getting Keith's blood pumping. Shiro smiles, carding his fingers through Keith's messy helmet hair and kissing him again, happy to know now that Keith hasn't changed – not really. He still loves the speed.

Shiro asks, "Wanna go for a ride?" And Keith smirks.


End file.
